Office by Patrick Haas

The office is a wondrous machine.
Each man eventually resembles the water
cooler, no fish where fish could survive
but clear ideas forming somewhere in the future
like stage props for a life in which we'll be cast.
Women lean against us to keep us warm,
it’s the sort of economy survivors are drawn to
no matter from where they hailed.
Each new day is another journey
inside the collision of waking and not knowing.
We follow money as little green torches
burning out in some hard to escape cave.
It’s said a curse there is written upon the walls
which can cost a lifetime to understand.